Blood Plus Oneshots
by Leni
Summary: They will usually be Hagi/Saya, from the Zoo to the future. Story 02: MIRAGE. Hagi dares to hope. Rated M for some nudity - I'd rather play it safe.
1. Exhausting

**DISCLAIMER:** See profile.  
**WORDCOUNT:** 1267  
**RATING:** PG  
**SUMMARY:** _Saya has no concept of the word 'please', yet she somehow works it into her eyes._

_Written for **lullabyes22** at Hagi/Saya requests._

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**EXHAUSTING  
**_by Leni_

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"Tell me another story, Hagi."

Saya has no concept of the word 'please', yet she somehow works it into her eyes.

"I'm not your story teller, Saya," he says over the brim of his book. "That is, after all, why Joel keeps a whole library at your disposition." He doesn't think she knows how lucky she is, when women up and down the country would kill for such a freedom.

She pouts. She always pouts. "But I want you to read them to me, and you won't do that either."

He is tempted to draw a long sigh, but that would end in Saya tearing out of the gardens and closeting herself in her rooms. He doesn't feel up to the challenge of tempting her back from a sulk, not even if he must rein in his own annoyance. "Didn't we talk about this last week?"

The edge of her lace bodice is the sudden receptacle of her attention.

At least she is bashful about her behaviour….

…No, wait. Saya is anything but.

Hagi peers at her. "Are you feeling well?"

"I am not sick," she says, prodding a loose thread with her fingernail and refusing to lift her eyes to his.

He almost closes the book, ready to leave it on the grass behind him and go to her. Sudden suspicion makes him wonder if that's been her intent all along. "Saya," he attempts in an imitation of Joel's stern tone. It won't work and he knows it; he's been trying it ever since his voice deepened and Saya's eyes speak of amusement whenever she hears that note.

Indeed, he watches as her expression changes. Her mouth thins and her cheeks pink as she tries to restrain a laugh.

"Out with it," he mutters, trying to glare at her but unable to.

Being in love with Saya can be exhausting.

She breaks out into a series of chuckles, doing nothing to stop her mirth except pretend to drown them behind bitten lips. "I'm sorry, Hagi." Her eyes are dancing, light and brown and a hint of wine, as she places a hand on his wrist. "You just sound so… not yourself." She plays with the ruffled ends of his sleeve, and Hagi forces himself to look at the top of her head instead of following her fingers' movements around the white cloth.

The tip of her fingernail brushes against the back of his hand, and Hagi can't ignore her anymore. "I don't know how else to sound." He doesn't know which role to play in her life, he means. He can't be the companion in her mischievous little schemes anymore; he can't be an authoritative figure in her life. He can't even be her lover, no matter what her surrogate father and Amshel seem to think. 'Who am I in your life?' he longs to ask her some days. But he knows her eyes would darken with perplexity, and she would look at him as if she couldn't believe how little he knew her.

'You are Hagi, of course,' she would say.

She does never fathom how hard – how impossible – it is to piece together this Hagi she seems so fond of in her better moods.

"Yes, you do," she answers now, tugging harder on his sleeve to call his attention back to her. There's that ghost of bright red – a mark of her rare heritage, Joel once confided, even if he's never disclosed what heritage that would be – ringing her pupil, and Hagi tells himself not to stare. "Look at me, Hagi."

He wants to tell her that he'll read to her now. But she'll need to go to the library herself and pick the book. Whichever book. As long as he got some minutes to himself.

Just a little distance, so he can collect his thoughts….

"Hagi." A small hand goes to the back of his head and pulls him down until their eyes are level. It strikes him that it's been years since she was able to do this, ever since that growth spurt that left him towering over everyone else at the Zoo. Time was, she'd pull his chin up, when he'd been the child and she the older one. However, and Hagi knows this just as he knows where to look for the freshest roses, he'll never be able to look at her as the younger one, no matter their appearances. It is in the set of her chin, the look in her eye that says she's known him since he was ten and scared, and she'll know him until his days on this earth are over. "I said," and there's unmistaken command in those words, "Look at me."

With only Joel, Amshel and the servants as company, Hagi often wonders where she got that stubborn streak. He refuses to consider there is any of his own influence in her character, that she'd only have been a pampered little princess if he hadn't come to her. That it was his defiance, the voice of reason that forced her to consider the consequences, which had tempered that old blind obstinacy into something that strengthened her.

He meets her eyes, obedient, pushing all these deep thoughts under his day-to-day preoccupations. What he'll do when Joel tires of his failure in seducing Saya. What she'll do when he's gone. If she'll miss him a little.

"I don't need another father, Hagi. I'm quite content with the one I have."

They are really still talking about his attempt to steal some of Joel's authority? "I understand."

Saya gazes into him for a moment before letting him loose. "I don't think you do." She moves to settle back on the spot she was when this conversation started, and Hagi wishes she'd tug on his sleeve once more, to let him know he's forgiven for whatever trespass he's committed against her.

"I know the world is different beyond the gates," Saya says, and along with her voice, the bright red of her eyes dull into darker shades. "I know of things I hear the maids speak." Her hands come up to cover her arms, rubbed down as if to keep warm, even though Hagi knew she wasn't cold - he'd have talked her into bringing her shawl if he'd thought the weather would turn on them. "I know that Joel doesn't want to let me go, that he doesn't believe that you'd protect me." Her eyes slant toward him, and it's as if a hawk has settled its sight on a mouse. Still, Hagi doesn't even consider running away until after her eyes soften and her arms relax to her sides again. "But you would."

He doesn't need to agree.

Because Saya is the event that has truly shaped his life.

He doesn't need to say that he loves her.

Because Saya has taught him, and she has studied him. She has _molded_ him.

He doesn't need to say that he'll follow her through this world-travelling dream and then bring her safely home – if she wants.

Because whatever piece of him she isn't aware of, Hagi is not sure it'd be a piece worth knowing.

(Only if she wants.)

"If that is your wish," the oath leaves his lips without permission, and even Saya looks stunned at its vehemence.

Dark eyes, only brown now, settle on him. Not judging, not weighing. Just curious. "I wish for you to help me pick a book," she tells him, extending out her hand and waiting for him to stand and help her to her feet.

He does so, a gentleman in her eyes if not in the world's. "Do you still want me to read to you?"

Her smile is grateful, and he is surprised at a light blush on her cheeks. "Please?"

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**The End**  
02/05/09

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Hope you liked it! As always, reviews are loved. :)


	2. Mirage

**DISCLAIMER:** See profile.  
**WORDCOUNT:** ~2100  
**RATING:** R-ish, for nudity  
**SUMMARY:** Well, we know little of their past together. But we DO know that there was a Long Sleep before Vietnam._  
**A.N.** This was supposed to be 100 words for **euphonic_soma**'s __'enraptured'_ request at Blood+ ABC Drabbling (check my Lenidrabbles account at ). Obviously, that did not quite work.

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**MIRAGE  
**_by Leni_

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_MIRAGE: LITERARY. a hope or desire that has no chance of being achieved._

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It's almost two am when it happens. Everybody in the Red Shield headquarters is asleep, from the trained operatives to the cooks and the cleaning crew. Only Hagi wanders the empty corridors, a strangeness in the air pulling him out of his assigned room and the pretense of sleep that is more comfort to the humans than to himself.

It starts with a hum.

A tug beneath his skin.

A silent whisper in his every cell.

Hagi stands still, letting the sudden urge to transform and break through the roof roll over his body.

"Saya."

He doesn't care to tell Joel; the curiosity of the scientists never crosses his mind. Two generations of biologists couldn't tell him why the Sleep had stolen her away; nobody knows for sure when she'll wake up - or if she'll wake up at all.

Hagi knows.

There are no test results to prove him right; but Hagi has never needed proof where Saya was concerned. If he still wanders the earth, then so will she. Any other option crosses the realm of the impossible into the absurd.

Now, the soft beckoning alarm in his veins is all the confirmation he needs. The others would delay him; they'd ask questions and slow him down with their _when?_ and _how?_ and _why?_. As if Hagi had any of the answers. As if Hagi knew anything about this being he became while his home burned to the ground.

He only knows that he is hers, always hers.

And to her he goes.

It's the first time this has happened, but Hagi knows that she'll be awake when he reaches her. In the thirty years since Saya couldn't be woken up, ever since he watched - as fascinated as the Red Shield members - the white tendrils envelope her, he's never been more tempted to uncurl his wings and fly to her.

The Red Shield operatives in charge of her custody are asleep. Hagi slide past them without a second look; it's not as if he ever trusted strangers to protect her.

It is he who is Saya's guardian. Saya's companion. Saya's eyes and ears when she's away, and an extension of her body when she is close. 'Saya's servant', Joel and the others call him behind his back. Hagi doesn't care, for it's the truth as best as humans can understand it. The reality is much more, and much less….

It's everything.

There are tears in his eyes when he sees the break in the cocoon.

She is laying next to it, head pillowed in the lacy remnants of the outer layer.

She looks... peaceful, and Hagi wonders at the strangeness of the picture. First, so many decades ago, she was too free, too spoiled, always a blur traipsing through the mansion. Then she was too burdened; quieter, yes, but her shadowed eyes and taut shoulders spoke of nothing but her mission and the mistake that haunted her.

Now, though, the lines of her body reflect a bone deep contentment.

Hagi dares to hope.

He steps inside, not pausing to wonder where her clothes went or why she hasn't left the room on her own. Her hair is long again, longer than ever. For a second, Hagi wonders whether he'll get the chance to style it again, as she taught him when he was a still a child, or if she'll chop it to its shorter version.

"Saya."

She didn't react at his entrance; but the one word seems to stir her. Several feet of hair shift on the floor, over her skin, as she lifts her head. A lazy motion, a slow focus in her eyes until they fall on him.

That's when her irises redden. Hot iron eyes, Hagi used to think when the change would come upon the strange girl he'd been bought to entertain. Joel had told a confused eleven-year-old that her changing eyes were a peculiarity from her people - young, ignorant of anything that hadn't fit in his family's caravan or this new world at the mansion, Hagi had believed the older man without questions.

He still asked no questions, if only because nobody had the answers.

Saya moves to her knees, still looking at him. Her hair curtains down over her body, but still leaves most of her bare to the air. She sways a little, as if confused, and then her hands come up to rub her arms.

Hagi realizes it's winter at the same time he is stripping from his overcoat. Going on one knee, he covers her with the garment - "Here." - and places it more securely over her body when she doesn't make a move to arrange it.

Instead her arms shoot out, dismissing the coat, and Saya grasps onto his shoulder. Her thumbs dig into the bare flesh over his collarbone, while long nails sink into his shirt; as if she couldn't remember how much strength to use. Hagi watches her legs tremble as she rises to her feet, and wonders if thirty years of inactivity can cripple her body.

He stands up, too, steadies her when she tumbles awkwardly against him, long tresses flying forward to veil her face and tickle his bare arms. "Saya," he breathes, the word sifting into her dark hair.

She tilts her head up at the sound of her name, and her smile blossoms, wide and trusting. Her right hand lifts, fingers moving to trace his cheeks. Her other hand rests at his shoulder for support, but then joins in its twin's quest, traveling down his neck and chest with child-like curiosity. The spot over his heart gives her pause, makes her look into his eyes.

Red flashes brightly, and for once there's no question in her features, no apologies. In this state, she recognizes all that he has to offer and accepts it without regret.

Hagi watched her mouth open, sharp fangs peeking under her lips. The coat slips down her body as she presses herself against him, content with the little heat he can offer. Hagi's hearing picks on the sound cloth makes as it hits and crumbles on the ground; he is too transfixed by this version of Saya to even remember why he should pull the cover back over her shoulders.

She raises to her tiptoes, for once - oh, let it not be this once only - unconcerned by the proximity between them. His arms fasten around her, hands clutching her closer and feasting in the reality of her after so long. "Saya," he says, her name the only word he can remember anymore.

Her thumb alights on his chin, pushing it backwards and to the side.

He has one moment to thank any existing deity that he didn't think of this. He'd have offered his wrist, a long-ago habit that Saya had broken the moment the Red Shield swept in with their bagged doses and unfeeling loyalty.

One heartbeat, and then her lips brush his throat. Skin pierces, and there's the welcome moment of pain, the balance for the blissful sensation of Saya feeding from him.

This is the moment where right and wrong blur together. Black and white. Belonging and owning. Everything recedes into a corner of his mind, until only Saya stands apart.

Five heartbeats. She drinks in entire mouthfuls, her tongue lapping the tender spot to make blood run to the surface.

She could take it all, and Hagi wouldn't think to stop her.

Ten heartbeats - a lifetime. Her arms wrap about him, hands curl below his shoulder blades, providing enough leverage to lift herself higher up his body. His own hold supports her, and he can feel her little toes dangling against his legs. She takes one last gulp, before the fangs retract and she lays her cheek against his shoulder, hugging him to her with almost the same strength as he does her.

Hago feels that eternity has passed before his body winds down enough to lighten his grasp, before he lowers his head to brush a kiss against her crown.

This isn't the Saya he knows, and yet it is Saya in her true splendor. He thinks of all the horrors that have lived in her eyes - the carnage at the Zoo, the bloody trail Diva and her Chevalier leave behind. Hagi traces the smooth cheek, cleaning a drop of blood from the corner of her mouth. "There's nothing to be afraid of," he murmurs, so low not even the air stirs. That ultimate fear - becoming like her sister - is groundless. He thinks of what Saya will do when he tells her what she's like at her more instinctive. A queen seeking tribute, a lover hanging onto his body. A Woman. And yet, she is also this child dozing against him with a content expression.

With a lightness that he hasn't felt in thirty years - no, not since Joel's last birthday party - Hagi closes his eyes, letting himself imagine a world where they could stay like this forever. Never before has he examined his own heart so closely, never before has Saya given him the opportunity to do so.

He's loved her since the moment he understood the meaning of the word. He promised to follow her and never regretted it.

But now, almost a century from the day he met this enigmatic woman, Hagi understands that love has long evolved into need and hunger and understanding and, yes, into obsession too. Maybe this change started on the night she bound them by blood, but that doesn't make them less real. Less _his_.

"Hagi?"

The world comes back when she stirs in his arms.

"Where am -? Oh God." She scrambles down his body, flinching when he puts a hand at her elbow to stop her from tripping backwards. Her eyes are the color of tea now, wide and scared as she takes in her surroundings. Her nakedness. "Hagi?"

Of course. Fate has never been kind to them. She doesn't remember, and so she won't believe his tale. "It's all right, Saya," he lies.

He shouldn't have done that.

They're attuned enough that she picks the hesitance. Her eyes fly to his face, to his throat; she pales when she notices the telltale bloodstains on his shirt. "What did I -?" She balls her fist at her side, her body thrumming with what Hagi has long identified as self-hatred. "Why can't I remember?"

"It's all right," he repeats, though he knows that she isn't listening. He bends and reaches over to collect the discarded coat, offering it to her with averted eyes. Her fingers doesn't touch his as she takes it, and not a word cross between them until she buttons it up.

"How long?" she asks, folding the long sleeves until her fingers peek out. Her gaze is flat again; her mind, elsewhere.

Hagi keeps his eyes on her as he rises again. One blink, and he's committed to memory the spirited child she'd been upon awakening. He lists the image under the things that will never be the same. Even if there is another Sleep, even if his blood sings again with the news of her awakening, Hagi now knows that his blood will bring back the hardbitten warrior every time.

"It feels -" She follows the length of her hair with a frown. "- like a long time."

_'Not long enough,'_ Hagi thinks. "It's been thirty years."

Her eyes widen again. Not in shock, not even fear that she's missed so much. No. Hagi knows her as well (maybe better) as she knows herself.

No, Saya isn't shocked or afraid that her body betrays her without warning. That will come later.

Right now, the cause for her alarm is that Diva must have a great head start. "No," she whispers, hugging herself again. Hagi knows better than to try to console her now. It comes as no surprise when her shoulders are thrown back and her face sets into a determined expression.

Hagi is ready to leave, to return to the path Saya has marked for them both, even before her words fill the space.

"Let's go," and she starts toward the exit.

With her back to him, Saya can't see the straight line of his lips or the sadness of his eyes. By the time he's caught up to his long-established position at her side, his features are smooth and expressionless again.

"Are we still in France?"

"Yes."

(When did she last smile so openly?)

"And Diva?"

"Last reports place her in Eastern Europe."

(Will she ever be happy again?)

"Then we go there."

His body still echoes with the closeness of hers. Hagi stares ahead. "If that is your wish."

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**The End**  
09/06/09

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Reviews? Yes, please!


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